Trompe la mort- As death approaches, Brassens has varied dreams of immortality

« Trompe la mort »: Brassens wrote this song in 1976 after alarmist reports appeared in the newspapers about the severity of his medical problems. Brassens was only 55 years old. The song claims that he as fit as ever and has a time left to live: « C'est pas demain la veille, Bon Dieu, de mes adieux ». The song explains that all the symptoms the journalists were quoting were just his theatrical pretences as a showman and he deals with each in turn.

However the defence that Brassens makes is not what it seems. His excuses are deliberately preposterous, beginning with the claim that his hair hasn’t really gone white - for dramatic effect he is wearing a white wig over the jet black hair he had been well known for. He ends with a last verse of total farce.

Under the comic exaggeration is the sad message that the newspaper reports are correct. The formidable Georges Brassens is experiencing serious physical decline with death not far away. He had five more years to live after writing this song and died in 1981.

Seeking clarity of recording, I have chosen the following version by Brassens' friend. Le Forestier.

TROMPE LA MORT(1) – Avec cette neige à foison Qui coiffe, coiffe ma toison, On peut me croire, à vue de nez, Blanchi sous le harnais Eh bien, Mesdames et Messieurs, C'est rien que de la poudre aux yeux,(2) C'est rien que de la comédie, Que de la parodie : C'est pour tenter de couper court À l'avance du temps qui court, De persuader ce vieux goujat Que tout le mal est fait déjà. Mais dessous la perruque j'ai Mes vrais cheveux couleur de jais, C'est pas demain la veille,(3) Bon Dieu ! De mes adieux. Et si j'ai l'air moins guilleret, Moins solide sur mes jarrets,(4) Si je chemine avec lenteur D'un train de sénateur, N'allez pas dire : "Il est perclus" N'allez pas dire : "Il n'en peut plus ", C'est rien que de la comédie, Que de la parodie : Histoire d'endormir le temps, Calculateur impénitent, De tout brouiller, tout embrouiller Dans le fatidiqu' sablier. En fait, à l'envers du décor, Comme à vingt ans, je trotte encore, C'est pas demain la veille, Bon Dieu ! De mes adieux. Et si mon coeur bat moins souvent Et moins vite qu'auparavant, Si je chasse avec moins de zèle Les gentes demoiselles, Pensez pas que je sois blasé De leurs caresses, leurs baisers, C'est rien que de la comédie, Que de la parodie : Pour convaincre le temps berné(5) Qu'mes fêt's galantes sont terminées, Que je me retire en coulisse, Que je n'entrerai plus en lice. Mais je reste un sacré gaillard Toujours actif, toujours paillard, C'est pas demain la veille, Bon Dieu ! De mes adieux. Et si jamais, au cimetière, Un de ces quatre(6), on porte en terre, Me ressemblant à s'y tromper, Un genre de macchabée, N'allez pas noyer le sous fleurs (7) En lâchant la bonde à vos pleurs, Ce sera rien que comédie Rien que fausse sortie. Et puis, coup de theâtre, quand Le temps aura levé le camp,(8) Estimant que la farce est jouée Moi tout heureux, tout enjoué(9), Je m'exhumerai du caveau Pour saluer sous les bravos... C'est pas demain la veille, Bon Dieu ! De mes adieux.

CHEATING DEATH With this snow a-plenty Which caps my mop of hair One may think me,at a rough glance Turned white by the long grind. Well then, ladies and gentlemen It’s nothing more than powder in your eyes It’s nothing but simple play-acting Than simple parody : It’s to try to stop in its tracks The advance of racing time To persuade this old tormenter That all the harm’s already done But under the wig I have My true hair coloured still jet-black It’s not the time quite yet, Good God! For my farewells. And if I look less sprightly Less firm on my sturdy legs If I move with a some slowness At a senator’s pace Don’t go saying : « He has gone lame » Don’t go saying : « He has had it » It’s nothing but simple play-acting Than simple parody : Matter of lulling time to sleep Calculator impenitent Stirring everything up- the lot In the hourglass of fate In fact, backstage, behind the set I trot nimbly as at twenty It’s not the time quite yet, Good God! For my farewells. And if my heart beats less often And less quickly then before If I chase with less hot zeal Those of the fair sex Think not that I am grown weary Of their caress and of their kiss It’s nothing but simple play-acting Than simple parody : To convince credulous old time That my amorous jaunts are over That I’m retiring to the wings That I’ll enter the lists no more But I remain a lusty fellow Still hard at it, still as randy It’s not the time quite yet, Good God ! For my farewells. And if ever, to the cemetery One of these days, they bring for burial So like me to deceive people Something looking like a corpse Don’t go drowning it neath the flowers While unplugging all of your tears, It will be merely play acting Nothing but a false exit. And then dramatic climax when Time has taken his hook Judging that the farce is over I quite happy, game for a laugh I will dig myself from the grave To make my bows to loud applause It’s not the time quite yet, Good God! For my farewells.

Translation Notes

1) A trompe-la-mort is a daredevil – someone who cheats death. Trompe la Mort was the nickname given to Vautrin, in Balzac’s “Le Père Goriot”. He was a larger than life character, who was secretly the head of the French criminal fraternity. They called him this name believing that, whatever he did, including murder, he would always escape death on the guillotine. As “tromper” means to deceive and the poem is about deception, perhaps an English translation of the title should include this idea – but it is better and easier to keep the name of Balzac’s famous character!

2) Poudre aux yeux. The image is of a powder cloud as white powder is applied to his wig- as in olden times
.

3) “C’est pas demain la veille means “that will not happen just yet”

4) Le jarret means the back of the knee for a man hock for an animal. There is an expression: “Avoir des jarrets d’acier” to have strong legs. Brassens was of athletic build and so I put in the word “sturdy” with this previous phrase in mind.

5) Berner means to fool, to mislead

6) Un de ces quatre is an idiom meaning « one of these days », « at some point in the near future »

7) “noyer le souffleur/sous fleurs” “Lâchant la bonde”. Here Brassens is continuing his theatrical images with a contrived idea that I find impossible to translate. The “souffleur” (prompter) is the person who whispers/ breathes the words when the performer forgets his or her lines. The prompter is hidden in a narrow pit at the front of the stage as confined as that in which the corpse in this verse is placed. “La bonde” is bung hole on a barrel. The image is of a flood of tears being released to flood the prompter’s pit. When spoken “souffleur” sounds the same of “sous fleurs”. I have given up on most of the image and stuck to Brassens’ pun with sous fleurs. I feel all the complication is because Brassens is referring to his own internment and eschews sentiment.

8) “Lever le camp” means to strike camp

9) enjoué means playful

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